


Surrender the Beat

by PSIDontKnow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And Lance keeps a Swear Jar for Pidge, Gen, Grungy future aesthetic AU, Shiro is good, more characters to be tagged as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PSIDontKnow/pseuds/PSIDontKnow
Summary: Lower Arus, unlike the shining metropolis of Upper Arus, is dark. There's old buildings leaning into each other, cracked side walks and lamp posts that flicker unreliably, the Quintessence lines that light them thinning out this far out from the main hub.Its the perfect place to get lost, to hide in the sidewalk cracks from the Galra that rule the government. Someplace no one will look twice at a body on the street, unless you're walking dead man Takashi Shirogane





	1. Faded Receiver

**Author's Note:**

> IM HERE WITH A NEW AU, STOP ME WITH THESE AESTHETIC AUS
> 
> Or at least get me a beta lol

      Lower Arus, unlike the shining metropolis of Upper Arus, is dark. There's old buildings leaning into each other, cracked side walks and lamp posts that flicker unreliably, the Quintessence lines that light them thinning out this far out from the main hub. The citizens that live there walk heavily, every heavy step upon he concrete a trodden down beat that reminds them how corrupt the entire city is. It's the perfect place to get lost, to never be found unless you wanted to be. It's also the perfect place to never be found if someone doesn't want anyone to care about your rotting carcass. 

      This is why when Shiro - hood up to ward off the misting rain and walking home from his night job - sees someone crumpled in an alley, he immediantly assumes the worst, quietly walking over to the body and giving a gentle nudge with the toe of his boot. He almost jumps when there's a groan of pain, a shudder running through the body on the ground, quickly dropping to his knees to roll them over. He can't make out anything of their face in the dark, the faint lamp light not reaching all the way into the alley for him to make out more than the curl of dark hair under the hood the stranger wears, a smudge of something that could either be filth or blood down their cheek. 

      "Just hold on, okay?" Shiro murmurs lightly, trying to pick them up as gently as he could, straightening up so that he could carry them the three blocks to his apartment. The person is surprisingly light, struggling weakly for a moment before dropping back into unconciousness. He carries them princess style, their head lolling against his collarbone, and in the slightly brighter light of the street, he can see the blood that smears from their face to his shirt. 

      He goes as fast as he can without jarring them, quickly jogging up the back steps of his apartment building before staring blankly at his door. _Door, keys, no hand._ Shiro's eyes dart between his locked door and the unconcious person in his arms, trying to figure out how to unlock to door and not drop them. It takes a moment but he finally manages to wiggle his hand into his own jeans pocket, digging out his keys and sticking them in the door and only bumping the stranger's head against the door frame twice. He doesn't bother closing the door behind him as he walks in, not until he can put the person down on the old futon. 

      Shiro's mind is racing as he jogs back to the door, yanking his keys from the knob, shutting and locking the door as he goes over a mental checklist of what he needs to do, what he needs to grab, who he needs to call to deal with this person. Inside, his head is a whirlwind of thoughts, lists, memories of being in a similar state, even as he gets the first aid kit, calmly filling a bowl with warm water and grabbing a rag before heading back to the living room/bedroom. 

      A moment before he flips on the desk lap that sits near the futon, he thinks he sees eyes glowing in the dark. 

\----------------------------------------------------------- 

      "Pidge." 

      "Mnnn." 

      "Pidge!" 

      "What?!" Pidge's head snaps up from where she'd been typing furiously, eyes narrowing behind her glasses as Hunk wrings his hands. 

      "Keith's not back yet." His eyes keep darting between her screen and the window facing the street, rain pouring down in thick sheets. 

      "He just left Hunk, stop worrying." He turns more towards her at that, face in a familiar expression of amusement and worry. 

      "He left at six." 

      "Yeah?" 

      "It's almost four now." 

      "Holy shit." From somewhere in the darkness, she hears Lance sleepily mutter 'swear jar' and Pidge flips the bird in the direction of his voice, Hunk laughing behind her. Vengence rightfully served, she turns her attention back to Hunk, to the way his dark eyes are flicking between her and the dark streets outside. 

      "Don't worry Hunk. He was out there for years before he joined us. Maybe he found an old friend." He stares at her a second, mulling the words over in his head before nodding and shuffling over to the bed. There's still worry tugging at her heart, even as she begins typing again and Pidge resolves to call her contacts to see if they've seen Keith. Once Hunk has crawled back into bed again that is, she doesn't want to worry him more. 

\------------------------------------------------------------- 

      Once he flicks on the light, Shiro can see the way that his guest's eyes are narrowed at him, black hair sticking to their face from both the rain and the blood that takes up most of his right cheek. He gently sets the bowl of water down on the floor, kneeling down by the stranger, first aid kit in hand. 

      "My name's Shiro." He says, low and soothing, staring the other in the eye. "I found you outside, and I'm going to need to clean your wounds before they get infected, okay?" Those eyes are still narrowed at him, silently judging him, before they slide closed again and the tension goes out of their shoulders. Shiro lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, carefully reaching over to pull down the stranger's hood, trying to see where the blood on their face was coming from. 

      ....Hunh. 

      Well, he's seen stranger things than Galra ears on someone with a human face... Okay, he hasn't, not really, but they're smaller than the ears most of the upper class Galra have, almost hidden in the stranger's dark hair, and he turns his attention from them to the hair stuck to their temple. The cut there is nasty, already bruising a dark plum color as he carefully washes away the blood. Their cheek is also hurt, though it's already beginning to scab over, small cuts and lacerations that look like their face had been scrapped against a brick. 

      It doesn't take that long to clean and bandage the wounds, butterfly sutures on the cut on their temple, but its long enough to notice that they're not breathing right. The inhales are too short, exhales accompanied by short huffs and a small sound that almost sounds like a whimper. It only takes a moment for Shiro to debate with himself before he's unbuttoning the large raincoat the other wears, carefully pressing along their side and feeling for broken ribs. He doesn't find any, can't even feel the stranger's ribs because it feels like there's something between the shirt and skin, far too thick to be normal undergarments and Shiro's eyebrows knit together. He doesn't want to invade their privacy, but their breathing is labored, what ever is under the shirt most likely causing it, and he makes the decision. 

      Okay, so there's a faint blush across his cheeks as he pulls the shirt up, Shiro deeply wishing that the stranger was concious so he could ask questions instead of inspecting them like this. All of his uncomfortableness dissapears as the shirt comes up, bandages coming into view, and it's no clue that the stranger couldn't breathe with how tight they're wrapped. They cover the stranger from just beneath their arm pits down to their waist, the edges biting into pale skin. Shiro quickly finds where the cheap metal clips are, four sets to keep them pinned together, and he removes them, gently tugging at the bandages. He's not going to remove them entirely, but they need to be looser, enough to where this stranger can breathe. Soon, the little hitch at the end of their exhales is gone, breaths deeper and smoother, and Shiro tugs their shirt back down. He pulls the coat back around them too before looking over his work. There's nothing else he can do now, just waiting for them to wake up. 

      Well, there is one thing he can do. 

      His knees give a small protest as he stands, stretching his back before walking towards the corner that functions as a kitchen, walking around the bloody rag and open med kit. The house line, the one that everyplace has to have installed due to city council ordenances, is there, hung above the counter. It just takes a wave of his hand to bring up the blue holoscreen, the words '0 Missed Calls, 2 Saved Messages' scrolling across it. That's not what he wants though, and he dismisses the words with another wave, bringing up his contacts list. Its pitiful, only three names, one of which is his work, but the one at the top is who he needs to call. 

      As the connection rings, he leans against the counter, pulling off his gloves and stretching his hands in front of him, watching the way his flesh and blood fingers are just a second more responsive than the mech of his right hand. Shiro straightens back up as the connection picks up, looking straight at the blue holoscreen, even though he hadn't set the call to video. 

      "City Morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em." He can barely restrain the snort at the accented voice that cheerfully chirps out the words. He does laugh when another voice starts up, chastising the first before addressing him. 

      "Arus City Morgue, Dr. Tean speaking." 

      "Allura?" 

      "Shiro! What a surprise, you normally don't call during work hours. Did you find something?" Allura's voice is suprisingly chipper for a woman who works with dead bodies, but she's been that way, ever since Shiro had met her three years before. 

      "I found someone passed out on a side street, do you think you could come check them out?" 

      "I get off in another few hours, I can swing by then." There's the sound of metal against metal, and he thinks he may have actually interupted them working before he hears Coran muttering something in the background about Jenga. The call is quiet but for that until Allura speaks up again. 

      "There's something you're not telling me." Shiro winces at her tone of voice, that undeniable 'Mom is scolding you' tone to it. 

      "He's not human, not fully anyways. He's got Galra ears, and his nails looked pretty clawlike." She makes a small humming noise and he can practically see her brows drawing down in thought, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she thinks. 

      "I see. We'll be by in a few hours." The holoscreen blinks red for a second, showing that she hung up on him - not unusual, Allura doesn't seem to believe in saying goodbye at all - and Shiro dismisses the screen with a sigh. Another few hours until she gets here.... He rubs at the scar across the bridge of his nose with a groan, blindly reaching into the cupboard above his head with his other hand. 

      He's going to need some coffee to deal with this.


	2. Kakararendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onto the next station?

By the time that Allura is finishing up, hands washed clean of most of the fermaldahide smell, lab coat hung in the city provided lockers, her personal number is ringing. There's very few people that even know that she carries the cell, even fewer that know the number, so she picks it up without hesitation, heart leaping into her throat, already fearing the worst. She doesn't even get a word out before a familiar voice is crackling through the speaker.

"Keith's missing." The anxiety that had been crawling up her throat calms at that, something that she knows how to fix already.

"I know where he is." Allura's voice is calm as she shuts the locker door, sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, smiling a bit at Pidge's laughter that crackles through the reciever.

"Wow, you sure work quick Princess. He there with you?" Her voice is less serious now, concern for one of her little rag tag family bleeding away. For the moment anyways.

"No. A friend of mine called earlier, saying he had found a Galra Hybrid unconcious. He lives about fifteen minutes from you. I figure it’s Keith, since he’s the only recognizable Galra Hybrid in Lower, I'm actually going down to check on them now."

"Great. Let me wake up Hunk and Lance and we'll come with you to get our idiot." She can hear noises in the background, probably Pidge powering down her computer set up, and Allura cuts in.

"You cannot."

"Why the fuck not?! We've gotta go get our stupid cat!" The woman sighs into the cell, waving over Coran as she leaves the building, heading for their car. She hates having to tell Pidge no, expecially about things like this, but she's not willing to let the girl anywhere near Shiro.

"This friend, he doesn't do well with a lot of people. You're just going to have to trust me."

\-------------

Pidge is pacing after she hangs up with Allura, walking around the small apartment above Hunk's garage. It normally feels too crowded, four adults sharing the small space, but it feels far too empty without Keith there, with the fourth part of their little group someplace that they don't know. Pidge growls low in her throat, stomping into the kitchen and kicking one of the drawers. They're new tech, homemade from junkyard scraps by her and Hunk, all she really needs to do is tap it to get it to open, but she's pissed and the stinging pain in her bare toes is enough to grumble over as she collects everything she needs to make coffee.

"Stupid Allura and stupid Keith, stupid fucking -" Between her angry grumbling, slamming things around, and the shrill 'beep beep beep' of the coffee maker, Lance has woken up, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Sup short stuff?" He yawns, eyes just barely open as he moves over to place his chin on her head. Normally, she'd be screaming at him right now, because he'd have his face mask on and that shit stuck in her hair like no body's business. He's forgone the face mask though, instead sleepily mumbling into her hair, and Pidge thinks she may catch the words 'find Keith' and 'swear jar' in between talk of the floor being cold.

"Allura knows where Keith is, but she won't tell me." She grumbles, only slightly less annoyed with someone there to actually talk to, and Lance makes a discontent noise into her hair, reaching over her to grab down her favorite mug - covered in a circuit board pattern with the words 'world's #1 hacker' sloppily painted on it, a gag gift from her brother that she cherishes.

"Prolly has a good reason, Pigeon." Lance moves to where his boney chin is no longer wearing a hole in her skull, placing her cup infront of her as he grabs his own plain mug. She can’t help but huff at the logic of it, filling up her mug (and Lance’s, when he holds it in front of her) and dumping in too much sugar.

"I know, but it still pisses me off."

\--------------

In the two hours since he'd called Allura, Shiro's guest hadn't woken up once. They'd probably drifted up from unconciousness to actually sleeping, if the discontent sleepy grumbling meant anything. Shiro had spent most of his time sitting on the kitchen counter, reading and drinking his coffee when he hadn't been pacing or checking on the stranger. It's a touch past six when there's a knock on his door, a pattern to it letting him know it's Allura, and he stands to let her in.

"Good morning Shiro!" Allura looks absolutely chipper, way too chipper for someone who is standing on his doorstep, in the rain, after an eight hour shift. That's Allura though, her hair is still pulled up, only a few stray pieces slipping free from her bun, makeup still immaculant, both her eyeliner and the foundation that hides the pink markings on her cheeks from sight, and he finds himself silently laughing at his own personal wish that his eyeliner could be that immaculate after a night of dealing with bodies.

"Morning Allura." There's always something in his chest that unwinds a bit with her around, and he steps back to let her into his apartment. She steps into the doorway, closing her umbrella and leaving it near the door before walking in like she owns the place. Technically she did, she'd found the place for him, paid the first few months of rent, still offered to help him now, and he doesn't feel the spark of anxiety that most people produce in him when she looks at him. She commands respect, but does not make him feel lesser, and he loves her a bit for it.

She doesn't waste time with small talk, looking Shiro over to make sure that he's okay before walking over to place her purse on the kitchen counter, her light jacket being shed and laid next to it before she pushes up her sleeves, 100% business.

"I take it he is on the futon?"

"Wasn't going to leave him on the floor." Shiro gives her a tired smile with his small attempt at humor and Allura's face softens a bit, patting him on the shoulder as she sweeps by him. Her bedside manner is cold and efficient, long fingers inspecting his guest's wound with a clinical gaze before she takes her thumbs and presses under his eyes, along his cheekbones.

"Keith." Her voice is no nonsense as she calls his name, a frown marring her delicate features when the boy only grumbles sleepily. She calls his name twice more before he opens his eyes.

"'Llura? Wh're ya 'ere?" He yawns widely, showing sharp teeth to the room before leaning forwards into her hands. The movement rubs his temple against the cushions though, and he winces, jerking backwards from her hold and blinking away the sleepiness. Awareness and caution immedintly bleeding into his eyes and posture.

"Allura? Where am I?"

\------------------------------------------------

Keith leans his head against the cool window of Allura’s car, eyes staring out without seeing the grunge and grime of lower Arus. There was something familiar about the man that had found him, but he can’t focus on it. Anything that was familiar to him was either his home, Allura and Coran, or something from  _ before _ , and he’s almost sure that the man’s something from before. If the nagging knowing-but-not feeling hadn’t been enough to cement that thought, then the glimpse of dark metal peaking out from under his sleeve would have. He’d only seen that type of metal in one place -

“Keith, we’re almost there, are you alright?” 

\- in only one place -

“Yeah, just thinking.”

\- he can’t remember where.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy oh boy, it's been a while.   
> I'm hoping to work on this more, season three gave me a pleasant kick for this. Also hoping that the chapter title comes up in another chapter (Darlin', eh?)   
> You can find me screaming a wee bit, and maybe drawing some on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PSIDontKnow)

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, I hope you guys enjoyed that?? I've been debating over posting this for two months. Hopefully I don't make y'all wait that long for chapter two  
> Comments will probably motivate me to write more. *wink wink nudge nudge*


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